


Mummy Holmes is throwing a Grand Party

by w_x_2



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 18:32:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13172757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w_x_2/pseuds/w_x_2
Summary: “Mail,” Sherlock requests, hand outstretched, flat palm up.“You want to look at the water bill?” John dubiously questions with an arched eyebrow.Later in the afternoon however, when the front door opens and closes, announcing a visitor, Sherlock looks intently at the door, and when their visitor finally enters, umbrella first, Sherlock extends one of his hands in demand.“I wasn’t aware you fancied yourself as my personal courier,” Sherlock scoffs at his older brother while he impatiently wriggles his fingers.





	Mummy Holmes is throwing a Grand Party

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, no harm intended, no profit made.

Sherlock's behaviour has been strange for the past few days. John can't quite put his finger on it, but Sherlock has been far more withdrawn and quiet than his usual measure.

 

“Mail,” Sherlock requests, hand outstretched, flat palm up.

 

“You want to look at the water bill?” John dubiously questions with an arched eyebrow.

 

Sherlock looks at John, he tilts his head very, very slightly in surprise as he reads John’s expression.

 

“Never mind,” he replies while getting up and then walks away.

 

The next morning, the same request happens, but there's still no mail specifically addressed to Sherlock.

 

Later in the afternoon however, when the front door opens and closes, announcing a visitor, Sherlock looks up from the stance he's been in for the past two hours, fingers steepled in front of his face, deep in thought from what John could tell.

 

John watches as Sherlock looks intently at the door, and when their visitor finally enters, umbrella first, Sherlock extends one of his hands, hand open flat and palm up just like he's done to John for the last couple of days, but his features express annoyance.

 

“Hello, John,” Mycroft greets with a brief incline of his head. “Sherlock,” he says in a similar tone as he reaches inside the jacket of his suit.

 

“I wasn’t aware you fancied yourself as my personal courier,” Sherlock scoffs as he impatiently wriggles his fingers.

 

“I asked Mummy if I could bring it to you,” Mycroft informs.

 

Sherlock roughly takes the envelope which Mycroft unfolds from an inside pocket and despite the obvious anticipation for it – two days he’s been asking for that letter, there’s no guessing as to how long he had been waiting for it before then– the genius simply places it in his lap and returns his hand to its previous thinking position.

 

“Sherlock-” Mycroft begins with a tone which clearly means business but the younger Holmes cuts him off.

 

“I. Know.” Sherlock answers tersely.

 

Mycroft doesn’t look pleased to be so clearly quietened but nods and turns to exit. Just as he reaches the doorway though he turns back. “You are the last,” he informs Sherlock before saying, “I hope you will bring John. Good evening gentlemen.”

 

Mycroft exits and John patiently waits for some minutes but Sherlock does not offer any information.

 

“Where does Mycroft hope you will take me?” John finally asks.

 

“An exotic island no doubt,” Sherlock mutters.

 

“I guess this isn’t for a case,” John utters with a slight questioning tone in the hopes of getting some more information.

 

“Correct assumption John. I must go now. Things to do.” Sherlock stands up, elegantly catching the envelope as it starts to fall from where it had been on his lap, before walking to the mantle place and dropping it in front of the skull. Sherlock then follows through to the kitchen and the sounds of what can only be Sherlock up to no good emerge.

 

As much as it has been strange behaviour for Sherlock, John lets it go for the moment even as he looks curiously at the specially delivered envelope.

 

* * *

 

John doesn’t interrupt Sherlock for the rest of the day, entranced as he is in his experiments. Instead, the ex-soldier leaves a cuppa before he heads out, and then swaps it for a new one, along with some toast after he’s cooked himself lunch which Sherlock will clearly not have. He’s pleased to see that when he sits down to eat the food he’s made, Sherlock also makes an effort to eat one of the toast slices and have a few gulps of the warm drink, but still there’s no words from him.

 

John leaves again and when he comes back later, ready to head for his bed, he leaves Sherlock another cuppa which the man promptly picks up.

 

“Goodnight Sherlock,” John utters even though he expects no reply or acknowledgement.

 

The letter is still where Sherlock had placed it in the morning. It remains unopened and John has the curiosity to know what it is but he doesn’t ask, he simply heads up to bed, and as soon as his head hits the pillow he falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

The place is dead quiet, pitch dark when John opens his eyes, so John isn’t sure what exactly has woken him up but he turns away from the wall, and _Holy God!_

 

His heart jumps in surprise, and he has to still his body in its lurching. His eyes adjust pretty quickly to see Sherlock sitting on the floor in the middle of his bedroom, legs bent at the knee, wrists resting on the joints, and head resting on the interlaced hands. His eyes are open and he’s clearly looking at John, but he's so, so very still that John wonders if he hasn’t actually managed to fall asleep with his eyes open.

 

“Sherlock,” John calls in a low voice.

 

“Thinking,” Sherlock answers the unheard question.

 

“Can I help you?” John asks sitting up. He turns his body so he’s facing Sherlock but stays with his legs under the covers.

 

Sherlock doesn’t answer for a very long time, and John wonders at what could be bothering the man. He’s never woken up to Sherlock sitting in his bedroom thinking, in fact, it has been a long time since John has seen Sherlock in his bedroom. Usually he just texts him, asking him to come down or meet Sherlock wherever the consulting detective fancies. It had been agreed, after John had caught Sherlock snooping in his room, that Sherlock was not to snoop again, at least not when John wasn't present. He’d thought about trying to get the concept of privacy through to Sherlock but realized there was no point, Sherlock clearly knew what it was, he just didn't believe in others having it. The one other issue is that Sherlock usually does his thinking laying in their sofa or by playing the violin. This though, is highly unusual and it's clear that there's something perturbing Sherlock.

 

“I am unsure as to whether I should _just_ take you with me or whether I should ask you if you would like to come,” his voice is unusually quiet when he finally answers, and he remains in the exact same position, mouth barely moving against his fingers.

 

John rubs his eyes and inhales deeply, holding in his breath before slowly exhaling.

 

“It's cold on the floor,” John comments as he notices Sherlock's bare feet. “Come up here,” he requests as he moves nearer to the wall to give Sherlock plenty of room.

 

John waits patiently and Sherlock finally moves. All precise, minimal movements as he gets up and sits in the same position at the end of John's bed.

 

“Do you want me to come?” John asks when all Sherlock does is continuously look at the Doctor.

 

Sherlock blinks slowly and then says, “I-” and then stops himself before he starts again. “It's more important whether or not _you_ would like to come.”

 

John forms a small, but genuine smile because this isn't like Sherlock at all and yet, “That's- well, it's a nice gesture, but as you know, it's really hard to decide without knowing anything about it.”

 

“That's not true,” Sherlock quickly calls him up on his excuse.

 

“Ok,” and then John recounts what he does know, “It's from Mummy, you said that the destination is most likely an exotic island.”

 

“And?” Sherlock prompts.

 

“Mycroft will probably be there too. As will Mummy.”

 

“Hmm,” Sherlock agrees.

 

“Family getaway?” John makes an educated guess.

 

“Mummy's birthday,” Sherlock informs.

 

“How old will she be?”

 

Sherlock twitches in his position for the first time, clearly unsure of something before he stills and replies, “70.”

 

“Seventy,” John drawls in awe.

 

“We were raised by our grandma,” Sherlock reveals.

 

“Does everyone call her Mummy?”

 

“You should refer to her as Ms Holmes when you first see her but she'll ask you to call her Mummy at which point you should,” Sherlock instructs instead as he hears the true meaning of John's question, and then adds, “If you do go.”

 

“Is there any reason why I shouldn't go?” John questions.

 

“You heard Mycroft say I was the last,” Sherlock recalls. John nods and the Holmes man continues, “There are a few more members in my family.”

 

“Gonna leave me guessing?” John questions. Sherlock doesn't answer so he says instead, “What else?”

 

“You coming will mean tha-” Sherlock stops mid sentence and then says. “In all honestly,” Sherlock swallows loud enough for John to hear. “Several things.”

 

“Like me finding out things you do not want me to know?”

 

“My family can be quite nosey and pushy but you know pretty much all there is to know about me and that is not a problem, John,” Sherlock admits.

 

“But there is something you do not want me to know,” John retaliates.

 

“What gave that away?” Sherlock asks snidely.

 

“Sherlock,” John utters in a patient tone.

 

“Will you come?” Sherlock asks and then clears his throat, “If you agree, you can't take it back, and it'll mean that you're m- will you come  _with_ me?”

 

John exhales loudly and rolls his eyes. “Tell me how many more siblings you have.”

 

Sherlock smiles because that was another way of John agreeing to accompany him, and John smiles alike before Sherlock squints his eyes. “That was a guess.”

 

“More like instinct.” John retorts. “So?”

 

“Three more brothers.”

 

John's eyes widen. “Mummy was able to deal with five Holmes brothers? Gosh, I can't even imagine!”

 

“We're all quite different,” Sherlock defends.

 

“Besides your obvious Holmes characteristics which you share with Mycroft,” John corrects.

 

Sherlock's look tells John what his thoughts on the matter of sharing anything with Mycroft are, but he doesn't verbally answer.

 

“Come on,” John coaxes.

 

“Not today,” Sherlock answers and stands with the explanation, “You need to sleep.”

 

“Now that I am wide awake,” John mutters with a roll of his eyes. “Of course.”

 

When Sherlock reaches the door he pauses, his voice is low but he turns his head without making eye contact, “Thank you for agreeing to come as my plus one John,” he carefully expresses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe there will be two chapters :)


End file.
